


Final Heaven

by Scribbleness



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29537196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribbleness/pseuds/Scribbleness
Summary: Tifa needed more gil if she didn't want to lose Seventh Heaven. Rude decided to help her train and win one-on-one matches in Don Corneo's Coliseum for the money to save her bar, but they will soon realize that the real battles are in the choices they make. (RudTi, maybe AU)
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Rude
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Final Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything that is not mine, is not mine. The games, the characters, they are not mine. The concept of the story is mine, but the elements added that were not originally mine, are definitely not mine. I hope that's enough disclaimer!
> 
> Author's Note: RudTi is one of the ships I learned to love from FF7R. And with the coaxing of my dear friends Naya and Sultry, I finally gave in and wrot emy first RudTi fic! This has been a great break from the fics I've been working on lately!
> 
> Thank you Naya for beta-reading and for the title! She knows the whole story already and suggested the title because of everything that will happen next. I agreed because I think it's perfect!

There was some familiarity in the place when she entered the halls of Don Corneo's Coliseum— the way it felt suffocating from the red and gold interiors, dingy lighting, to the smells of molds and sweat. The air was humid and thick with smoke and sewer fetor, which was typical for any establishment in the Wall Market, and the airconditioning did not seem to be working like it should. Lavishness was the purpose of the interior to invite and impress but then impeccably failing because it could not even manage to make its guests comfortable. And that was just the receiving area.

Tifa looked around cautiously, cutting her eyes around the expectant patrons who were too eager and anxious to get to their seats inside the stadium and witness the violence and gore they found thrilling. The thought sickened her, how entertainment of their age and time had come to something so degrading.

Yet there she was, hiding in the crowd from anyone who could recognize her, about to participate in all of it. She didn't pay for the ticket either. She couldn't afford the exorbitant price, not when she could use the money to buy a table for the bar instead, or a new freezer. Both of which she desperately needed.

When the wide doors finally opened, the spectators immediately flocked in and she found herself being dragged along in their collective tide. Good, she thought. She would be able to sneak into the stadium without raising any suspicion that way. She allowed herself to be carried through the door, hidden among the crowd from the ushers standing guard at the entrance.

"HEY!" one of the ushers called out. Tifa didn't look. She was almost there, almost through the doors.

"HEY LADY! Red eyes!"

Tifa's breath hitched. If only she could keep moving—

"STOP RIGHT THERE, RED EYES!"

People were starting to look at her direction now. She stopped on her tracks and slowly turned to the usher with a frown on her face to guard her agitation. The male usher was looking at her with wide glaring eyes.

"Your ticket!" he prompted sharply and loudly.

She winced, her insides cringing and shaking. She was caught sneaking in and that was that. She began to approach the usher.

"She's with me," a deep familiar voice called back behind her. Tifa turned around just as her anonymous sponsor threw two stubs towards the usher.

Rude was looking past her and at the usher. She didn't turn back around, missing the usher flick his eyes suspiciously at her and the Turk, and instead watched Rude turn his attention back at her. He extended his arm forward, gesturing at her to walk ahead. He was silent as he guided her to a seat beside him, his face unreadable as always, especially behind the dark glasses he wore no matter what time of the day it was. He looked calm, even when his jaws were tightening and loosening. It didn't seem like he minded her impromptu company, despite constantly shifting on his feet beside her. It was as if she was putting a weight on him even when she felt invisible.

She tore her attention away from Rude and glanced around the arena. It was worse inside, more unwelcoming and raunchy than it was in the receiving area— hot, noisy with the cacophony of cheers from the audience, and smellier from the mixed body odors and stench of grime from the unkempt stands. She looked and felt out of place in the chaos. Rude, more so.

"Uhm," she started, calling out a little more loudly to make sure he heard her. He swiftly whirled to her. "Thanks," she swung a thumb at where they came in. "For back out there.

Rude nodded curtly. "No problem."

"Why did you help me?"

Rude cleared his throat and dipped his head slightly. "Reno bailed on me. It would be a waste of a ticket."

Tifa tilted her head to get a better view of him. "So I'm a substitute."

Rude loosened the collar around his neck, his eyes still averted from her. "If you put it that way. Besides, you were sneaking in."

"I was."

"So it only makes sense to give you the ticket instead."

Tifa smiled sweetly. "Really. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

It was strange, the sudden friendliness she was getting from him. They were enemies not too long ago until they found themselves fighting together against common adversaries. It was a welcoming change because she was tired of having foes. All the fighting was getting too taxing regardless of the cause.

"Why are you here?" Rude asked suddenly.

Tifa bit her lip as she tried to compose a good answer. "I don't know if I want to tell you."

"Something tells me you need to."

The bluntness of it pressed her to tell him the truth. He helped her get inside after all and a good reason why was something she owed him at least. And that made the pressure even more onerous.

"Tonight is one of those one-on-one fights, right?"

"Yeah."

"I need to see how the fighting goes down there," she replied with an attempt to allow the noise to drown her voice a little. It did not work with Rude though when his eyebrows rose at her vague answer. He needed to know more than that, his face seemed to say. She learned then that Turks were sharper and more intuitive than they seemed.

"You're planning on fighting down there, too?"

Tifa gasped and sharply turned to him with bulging eyes.

"So I'm right," he said decisively.

"How did you know?"

"You want to be here so badly that you tried to sneak in just to watch how they fight. It's unusual for someone like you if you don't have a more reasonable motive, like learning the rules and how one gets to fight there. You _need_ to be here," Rude slowly turned to her. "Why?"

Tifa licked her lips and sighed deeply. Did she really want to tell him? Not one of her friends knew she was there, not even Cloud. Then again, he never stuck around long enough to know. What did she have to lose?

"I need the extra gil," she finally said. There was no use hiding it anymore. "My bar is losing money. Geostigma made it worse because my customers are more scared of going out to visit my bar in fear that they might contract it there. I will lose it if I don't do something."

The loud clamour from the stadium cut her when two commentators appeared in the arena to vociferously announce the first set of contenders for the night.

"It's not worth it," Rude said.

Tifa shook her head. "I don't have any other choice."

"You can borrow money—"

"No," Tifa quickly interjected. "I can't afford to do that either."

Rude straightened up. "I can lend it to you—"

"No." Tifa sighed. "Thank you, but no."

The first set of gigantic metal gates revealed a muscular man with a pink spiky mohawk, whooping his battle cry while the crowd's cheer drummed against the walls of the place. Tifa felt her heart jump in her throat as she leaned forward and saw herself in his brown-haired opponent— taunt, scared, and unsure.

And that was just round one.

* * *

It was brutal. All of it. Tifa could feel her insides churning with a twisted disbelief of what she had just seen even when she knew about the medics and curatives on standby just for the defeated and the wounded. It was not what she had imagined it to be. It was not a game because there was not a single fair fight. They used what they had and swindled their opponents to their advantage when they could. Rules did not apply and it was all a fight to death where only the fittest remained standing.

"You look shaken," Rude told her when they were back in the receiving area. She didn't realize she was staring at the plant standing in one of the corners of the room until he said something. She didn't know she was holding her breath either until she inhaled deeply to get her heart beating again.

"I told you it's not worth it," Rude said.

Tifa slowly shook her head. "I can do it," she said and quickly met his eyes. It was frustrating how he still wouldn't remove his glasses to see the doubt she knew he was holding up— the same doubt she had for herself. "I'll just train more. Get back in shape. And I'll do it."

Rude faced her, his brows creased in the middle. "I know you can. I've seen you fight. But they won't be kind to you."

Tifa lifted her shoulders. "How will it be different? You were not kind to me before. I endured and got by pretty well. And look where we are now."

Rude sighed, his shoulder hitching then dropping and his lips curving down to a side. "There's no stopping you."

 _Unless there_ _'_ _s a way to stop the bills from coming in_ , Tifa wanted to say. She had always held the principle that money never came easy to anyone. Even the detestable Shinra started somewhere and struggled to earn what they had, though not in the most fair and honest ways. What she had decided on was not the best of them either, but the thought of losing her bar, the very thing she worked hard for herself, her pride and joy, was crippling her. She couldn't lose it, not to geostigma, not like this. Tifa shook her head.

Rude's mouth twisted into a defeated discontent. It was all she could read of him before he said, "Better hit Jules' gym, then. Next fight is Tuesday, same time next week."

"Planning on it," Tifa replied.

"You might want to start now."

"Yes. As soon as possible."

Rude nodded and began walking away without another word as Tifa watched him curiously. He really was a peculiar man whose reputation as a Turk preceded him way too soon in more regards than one would usually suspect.

* * *

Tifa closed the bar the next day.

It was a Wednesday which meant that most people usually went straight home after clocking out of work. It would be a waste of the fixed expenses should she choose to open with so little to no customers to compensate for it. She didn't want to risk it, she couldn't afford to anyway. So she blocked the day for another thing, something that might prove more fruitful.

She asked Cid and Shera to look after Marlene and Denzel. They began asking questions, naturally, and she couldn't find a good reason to lie. "It will just be for now," she had told them, though the more intuitive Denzel seemed to impugn on her answer. And if Marlene had the same doubt, it didn't show. She took it as it was and went on her merry way with Cid and Shera on the Highwind.

Tifa really wished it would all be temporary.

She packed her gym bag and rode to Sector Six that afternoon. Jules might or might not be there, but she was sure his brother Andrea frequented the gym so he would most definitely be around. And a familiar face was all she needed if she was to do this alone.

Much to her relief, Andrea was indeed there working on the bars. Her smile quickly fell when she caught sight of another familiar yet unexpected face.

Rude rose from one of the benches, already in his fitted black gym shirt and dark blue gym shorts and hadn't even broken a sweat yet. He already had his hand wraps on and his glasses were gone, stony hazel eyes staring back at her the moment she walked in. Tifa narrowed hers and quirked her mouth, pleasantly occupied by his unusually bare footing when Andrea spoke beside her.

"You know that fella, don't you?"

"Yeah," Tifa replied as she watched Rude start his march toward her. He seemed shorter when he wasn't wearing his dark suit, and much less intimidating. "What's he doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same, love," Andrea returned in a low whisper, his vicious eyes lingering along Rude's breadth. "He's been here about fifteen minutes before you arrived, just sitting on that bench and waiting for you by the looks of it."

When Rude reached them, he nodded at Tifa then at Andrea.

"I'll be right over there," Andrea whispered into her ear before rapidly making a full tilt and walked away.

Rude reached out a hand at her gym bag. "Let me get that for you."

"No, I'll—" Tifa adjusted the strap around her shoulder. "There's no need to. I'll place them over at the lockers. Erm…" She tipped her head at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to help you train."

Tifa felt the air drop and her head jerked forward. "Y-you'll—" she stuttered. She couldn't stutter, not in front of a Turk. She was already embarrassed enough as it was. She tried to bring her composure back. "You'll help me train?"

Rude nodded. "I want you to win."

"Oh." Tifa straightened up, eyebrows raised. That was candid. "Thanks. But, that doesn't mean you should be worried about me." Her face tightened and her brows grew closer. "Right?"

Rude maintained a straight face when he answered. "I know you are strong enough. But the colosseum is infamous for playing dirty. They also made people fight a—" he cleared his throat, "—a house."

"Oh, so I've heard."

"You have to be prepared for anything."

"Right. I know. And I am."

"No. You're not."

Tifa reflexively shot up her arm to block a right hook from Rude. His movement was so swift she almost missed it, but her defense came too slow that she failed to thwart it with a more proper stance.

"Are you convinced now?" he prodded while she gaped at him. Tifa lowered her arm and drew a step back.

"I wasn't prepared."

"That excuse won't work in the colosseum."

Tifa chuckled. "I mean I'm not even prepared for training yet."

Rude shrugged. "I did say you have to be prepared for anything."

* * *

Two hours later, Tifa couldn't stand.

She was on the floor, cheek pressed against the cold concrete, and heaving. Her limbs were so sore she couldn't push herself up or even twitch in response when Rude knelt on one knee beside her. She could only reel her eyes up at him, catching only his foot and his leg.

"Get up," he bidded sternly.

"Give me a minute," she breathed.

"Where's your power?"

"Just…" Tifa winced.

"We were just warming up."

Tifa rolled her eyes. Three sets of burpees, rope pushdowns, bench presses, and endless rounds of sparring with a dummy tested her stamina so much Zangan would have cried with shame. She admitted that the past years without as many encounters made her a tad rusty, though she never expected she would be _this_ unpracticed. She would have retorted something to challenge Rude's ability to think of something less cheesy to say, but her lungs were burning, her heart was pounding painfully in her chest, and her lips were so dry she could only afford to say three words— "Go to hell."

Rude was unamused though. "At least you still have your cheek."

Tifa huffed.

"Stand up. Drink some water. We're done for today."

"Please."

"Please, what?"

Tifa lifted an arm to him. "Please help me up."

Rude held her by the arm and pulled her up gently just as she had asked him. She felt her knees weaken and almost fell back down but soon found her bearing. Rude stepped forward with another arm ready to brace her steady until she held up a hand at him.

"I got this one," she said.

Rude grimaced. "Want to continue this on Friday?"

Tifa took a deep breath and hurled him a sarcastic smirk. "To torture me again?"

"You've seen how they fight there," he asserted. "This is just a walk in the park."

Tifa stared at him sideways, studying his stoic gait. It was starting to frustrate her how nerveless he looked as he watched her careen in agony.

"You are still up for it, right?"

Tifa stretched herself up and chuckled while shaking her head. "You know that I have to be, right?"

His lip twitched up slightly, the first semblance of emotion she saw from him. "Then we'll see each other here again. Torture or not."

"Definitely torture."

Rude snickered faintly. "That depends on your progress. Get some rest tomorrow."

Tifa sighed and twirled her head away. "Not sure if I can do that tomorrow. I might open the bar."

Rude frowned. "Who's manning it now? Maybe you can ask them again."

"I closed for today," Tifa shrugged. She turned back to him. "Too little customers, too much money to lose."

"Oh."

"But who knows? I might consider trying again tomorrow."

Rude hummed against his throat. "You only have until Monday to prepare for next week's fight. Just saying."

* * *

Tifa closed the bar the next day, and it wasn't for the reason she told Rude. If she had to be honest, she couldn't care less about the foot count at the bar for that day— not when she could not even lift herself up from her bed. She must have torn every muscle and ligament from the workout yesterday and her body was crying. She was dying from all the pain. She must be.

She turned her head sluggishly to the window in hopes to discern the time of the day. The air was unusually warm so it must already be noon. She overslept, missed breakfast, and would probably miss lunch too. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"Okay," she whispered to herself. She was an adult person with responsibilities. She must get up.

Tifa groaned loudly when she felt it, the cold painful shards piercing up her veins as she sat up, the post-workout-strain. She felt like shit and it was not an overstatement. And that was when she had made a decision— she most definitely could not go through her day alone. She needed help.

She groaned from the sharp pain in her ribs when she sighed deeply. What would Cloud do if he was there to help her instead? They always promised each other they were going to be in this together. He promised that when they agreed to take Marlene and Denzel into their home. He also promised that when they built a bigger Seventh Heaven in the Edge despite her fears of bigger bills. He had told her he would help with everything, which was how he started his own delivery service.

"Where are you?" Tifa whispered to the wall across the room. She couldn't do all of it alone. She needed him for his help.

Tifa turned to the phone on her bedside table and whimpered as she stretched her arm to reach for it. There still was no notification from Cloud, but there was a message from an unknown number.

" _How are you feeling?_ " it read.

Tifa huffed and groaned from the pain as she typed her reply. " _Who_ _'_ _s this please?_ "

A message came back to her a few seconds later. " _Rude._ " Another reply quickly arrived after. " _It_ _'_ _s Rude._ "

Tifa chuckled softly at the pun. " _Oh, hi. I_ _'_ _m_ _—_ " She paused. Should she tell him? If she had to be honest, she could really do with all the help she could get. Rude went out of his way once to help her train without waiting for her to ask for it. And now he was checking up on her. Nobody had checked up on her for days and he was the first one to. Not telling him the truth would just be doing unkindness to herself.

" _I_ _'_ _m actually sore all over. I can_ _'_ _t get out of bed,_ " she replied.

" _Do you need me to come over?_ "

" _Aren_ _'_ _t you busy?_ "

" _Schedule isn_ _'_ _t tight right now. Just let me know and I_ _'_ _ll be right over._ "

Tifa carefully leaned back on her bedframe. Even scooting to her back was painful, and she couldn't imagine herself making the climb down and up the stairs to her bar where everything she needed was. Maybe Rude could do it for her. She would only need a moment of his time.

" _Please bring noodles,_ " she typed. " _And painkillers._ "

And he was there twenty minutes later, standing in front of her backdoor and waiting for her further instructions.

Tifa told him of the spare key she kept under a pot behind a defective window and how to open it. It didn't take long before she started hearing his footsteps up the staircase and finally turning the knob to her bedroom. Rude was in his uniform again, his shades covering his eyes as usual, and carrying a sizable white plastic bag. He hesitated by the door.

"Hi Rude," Tifa droned. "Come in."

He slowly stepped inside and carefully shut the door behind him. "Leaving a spare key in accessible areas is not safe."

"It's for emergency situations, just in case someone needs to come in."

"Like Cloud?"

Tifa didn't answer that. Yes, it was for Cloud, but also for the kids and her friends and especially Yuffie who broke in through the window when she tried to surprise her once (hence its defective state). But yes, most especially Cloud, just in case he decided to return anytime he wanted to, but Rude didn't have to know that. She could let him keep on guessing. Instead, Tifa gave him a small smile and hummed then moved her eyes to the plastic bag. "Are those for me?"

Rude glanced at what he was carrying. "Yeah. The ones you asked me to bring. And maybe other things you might need."

Tifa nodded. "Thanks. This means a great deal to me."

Rude smirked. "You're welcome."

They started with the food because Tifa was starving. She waited while Rude took liberties in her kitchen downstairs and returned with a large plate of saucy noodles. It was good, better than what she usually cooked for herself with the extra ingredients he seemed to have tossed in. He also made her fresh juice and hot coffee, and the painkillers she took after her meal helped her move around a little more.

"This is all your fault," Tifa jibed at him when she found her balance on her feet after sliding off her bed.

Rude raised an eyebrow. "It's been a while and you're out of shape. It's only understandable."

"Was expecting nothing more than a basic comeback workout."

"You only have days of what should be a month of preparation for the fight. We need to rush things."

"Yeah, I know," she sighed as she took slow steps to the door.

* * *

Despite being still sore, uncomfortable, and aching, Tifa was back at the gym the next day.

Rude was already there, handwraps on and waiting in the ring. He nodded at her and she smirked in reply before setting her bag down and joining him. She caught Andrea from her peripheral vision leaning back against a wall and smiling at the two of them.

"Ready for round two?" Rude asked as he released the ropes from his grip when he held it up for her.

"Yes, Coach."

It was more strenuous than before, something Tifa had already anticipated. Rude had expected her to be more prepared and seasoned by now after breaking through her rusty pace from her long hiatus. But she was more on guard now and her body more formed for endurance that she lasted longer without having to ask for his help to lift her back on her feet.

She didn't need to close the bar the next day, either.

Tifa asked Yuffie to man the bar for the rest of the day while she planned on making another trip to Jules' gym after she finished her opening shift. It might have been a bit too much for her not to take a leave from work and her newfound grueling recreation, but there was no rest for the wicked. People were whining and complaining about her closing the doors of her bar which essentially sounded like a constant _caching!_ to her.

And people did flock inside the moment she opened it that afternoon. They obviously missed it, her Seventh Heaven.

Rude watched as people entered her bar. He was expecting a different scenario, something similar to that day when she asked him for his help. He watched as Seventh Heaven was having one of its better days, a grocery bag in his hand and a smile on his lips. _Not today_ , he told himself. She seemed better today, and that was a good sign of progress. He turned around and began walking away while deciding to set his purchases aside for the next time she would need them. He should prepare for their training that night. They only had a few days left.


End file.
